Day 363 Ornamental Grass

December 7, 2015

(If we live with an open and
grateful attitude, every day will bring a gift. This is one of 365 gifts during
the year I turned 70.)

On my walk in Downs Park today, I stopped to admire
ornamental grass growing in clumps near the main office. These clusters are especially
beautiful when I study their texture accentuated with back or side light from
the sun. Each long stalk contains a clump of “fingers” curving downward and
holding hundreds of seeds. I cannot help but reach out to feel the feathery fingers
that seem to hold the sun’s silky rays along with millions of seed possibilities
for future generations.

On windy days, I observe how the tall stalks bend
with the wind. This is not a sign of weakness. In fact, the park ranger tells
me ornamental grasses are hardy and she offers seedlings if I’d like some for
my yard. These stalks bend in the wind but return to stand tall on a still day.
Perhaps this is really a sign of strength—its ability to be flexible. Is this
another life lesson from Mother Nature?

Nature paints texture on life’s canvas, giving it
depth, meaning and narrative. The texture in my hands tells a story of hands
that have dipped emerging prints in developer while I watched darkroom magic in
amazement. Multiplying lines on my face were etched with millions of smiles
throughout 70 years. The roughness in my voice grew from years of teaching
young minds to grow. And the texture in my mind makes the fertile ground
where creative thoughts bloom.